A Fool for You
by Shalla Bal
Summary: Everyone on the Wave Rider has an opinion about Mick's feelings for Amaya, and he wants to hear exactly zero of them...except Amaya's, if he could ever admit to himself or get up the nerve to tell her how hard he's falling for her. Perhaps a new adventure that begins with intruders on the ship will bring about the next twist in their relationship! Mixen VixenWave HeatVixen!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:** **The last thing he needed**

Mick Rory glowered over his glass of beer. Across the mess hall, Nate Heywood was making Amaya Jiwe laugh. As a cold shard of anger cut through his heart, Mick thought nothing that kid was saying could possibly be _that_ funny. Amaya laid her hand affectionately on Nate's arm, and Mick took a slug of beer. It didn't taste as good as it used to.

Maybe there _was_ something funny going on, and it was going on with Mick himself. It had to do with Amaya. The light in her eyes when she smiled at him. The feel of her arms around him, her lips brushing his cheek, those memories haunting him strangely. But he had no intention of admitting it in the slightest, even to himself, no matter how painfully obvious it became.

Uninvited, as usual, Ray sat down with Mick, his eyes tracking his imposing teammate's gaze, or glare really, to its source.

"Man, you know, you should really do something about that," Ray suggested with his usual infuriating sincerity. It made Mick want to puke.

"Don't know what you're talking about. Get lost," Mick shot back, cradling his glass for comfort.

"Come on, Mick, you can talk to me," Ray encouraged him, digging into his plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

"Sure, I could talk to you. But why would I? Who asked you to sit here anyway, Haircut?" Mick scowled, but Ray smiled.

"I knew if I waited for you to ask, I'd be sitting somewhere else," Ray admitted blithely, as if that was all the more reason for him to force his company and unwanted advice down Mick's throat.

Amaya was sitting too close to Nate now, telling him something in confidence, her expression intent, focused, intelligent. A few of her defining features. Mick held back a flinch as he almost let himself long to know what she was saying in that sweet, sexy voice of hers. What? Sweet, sexy? _No_.

 _Hell, no_.

"Listen," Ray admitted, "I wanted to talk to you because I myself have been in this situation twice. The situation Nate's in _right now_. Thinking he's starting this great relationship with Amaya, when really, she's thinking about someone else. The whole time. And when I was in Nate's shoes, now that I look back, I just wish someone, _anyone_ had told me. I could have saved myself a lot of confusion and hurt feelings." Ray's earnest eyes shone with the honesty and wisdom of words Mick rejected out of hand.

"That'd be fine if she _was_ thinking about someone else, Haircut," Mick grunted. He finished his beer, trying not to choke on it. Then he pulled out his lighter and flicked it a few times, trying to relax. Staring at the flame. No, it wasn't working. Now he was getting pissed off.

"But she's not," Mick concluded angrily. "And if someone else was stupid enough to be thinking about _her_ , they'd be a moron, because she obviously wants to be right where she is." He stood up, pocketing the lighter as Ray looked up at him thoughtfully.

"So, they'd be stupid _and_ a moron," Ray repeated, sympathy coating his humor so clearly that Mick bristled. He didn't want or need anyone's sympathy. Or friendship.

No friendship now that Snart was gone… _except hers_.

 _Whatever_ all this was, it was the last thing Mick needed today. "You try to talk to me about this again and I'll slug you," Mick assured Ray before striding off.

He was barreling down the hallway when Amaya caught up to him and touched his hand lightly to halt him.

"Hey, where are you running off to? I need to talk to you," Amaya said guilelessly, like she depended on Mick somehow. Like he was lucky enough for that to be true.

He looked into her beautiful brown eyes and breathed out steadily for what felt like the first time that day. His nervous tension seemed to even out.

"About what?" To anyone else, his words would have been a sharp retort, but for her, his tone was softened, almost intimate.

Her expression shifted as she searched his face, the remnants of his irritation fading, but having left their mark. Something was different between them lately. There was an odd shift in that the closer their friendship became, this undercurrent of emotion seemed to surge up ever stronger, and he kept having to hide it. It was getting harder.

Amaya opened her mouth to explain, but just then, Sarah came hurtling down the hall, pulling an injured Jax along with her. His other arm dangled at an unnatural angle, and there was blood dripping from his forehead.

"What happened?" Amaya wondered in shock at the sudden burst of chaos.

"We're under attack!" Sarah announced. "I've got to get him to the med bay!" The sounds of explosions and blasting from the bridge confirmed her words.

Mick and Amaya exchanged silent glances and nodded. Then they went running straight into the fray.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The truth syndrome**

Amaya frowned as she and Mick paused just outside the entrance to the bridge. They peeked around the corner and saw several definite aliens, green-skinned with pointed, silver-tipped ears and skin that looked downright scaly.

"Supergirl doesn't seem like such an exotic alien anymore," Amaya whispered.

"What the hell are they doing here?" Mick muttered back, his shoulder and arm positioned to caution her not to make another move forward just yet. Normally, Amaya might have been a little annoyed at the possible assumption that she couldn't make her own battle-related decisions. Yet, when it came to Mick, she knew that _wasn't_ the reason for his attitude. He was just being protective.

Mick tried to hide it, and no one else had perhaps noticed with quite so much detail how hard he worked everyday to keep it concealed, but he really cared about this crew, herself included. He had a big brotherly attitude towards them all that led him to act in ways his old, full-on criminal self would have more than abhorred.

A big _brother_ , that's what he was to the crew…and to her, right? Amaya had to shake off the ridiculous thought tangent that nearly distracted her from the very immediate danger before her eyes.

She wasn't really much given to distractibility in general. Something about that man just seemed to bring it out of her. The set of his dark eyes, the sadness and conflict there fascinated her endlessly. And for some odd reason, they seemed to urge her to offer comfort and counsel.

In a…sisterly….way?

Not really. Not really _at all_. Getting to feel his body pressed so closely to her own and allowing herself the tiniest thrill from the sensation was enough to make her practically grateful to the alien intruders. Mick Rory wasn't one to let someone inside his walls. It was damn hard to get close to him.

Unlike Nate, who was oh so handsome, _so_ available, open, sweet, kind, and oh, so very much _not_ Mick Rory.

Wasn't that the problem? Amaya bit her lip and sighed, momentarily and illogically swept up in her pondering.

The aliens were analyzing the bridge tech until, all of a sudden, they found what they were looking for, figured out who had control over the time travel mechanisms. Gideon.

They spoke to the computer in their strange language, and her smooth reply rang out:

"Fortunately, I am well-versed in hundreds of alien languages. For the benefit of the ship's actual crew, I will also share my responses in English. You are not authorized to take this ship through time." Then Gideon repeated the same phrases in the intruders' native tongue.

"So, they've got no beef with us," Mick realized. "They just want to steal our ship so they can take a little trip through time."

"That can't happen," Amaya replied, "Who knows how many insane aberrations they could cause?"

"They won't get the chance," Mick decided, lifting his laser rifle as Amaya did the same.

Instinctively, they each waited three beats before launching themselves onto the bridge. The five unwitting aliens scrambled back, two of them quickly stunned and felled before the other three joined hands, a shining, florescent blue light suddenly flashing up and down their bodies, a kind of shield that immediately deflected Mick and Amaya's fire.

" _That's_ going to be a problem," Amaya predicted tartly. Mick bristled beside her for just a moment before trying to take on the aliens with just his fists. Despite his considerable strength, he was quickly subdued, since the aliens apparently possessed superhuman brawn as well. Amaya sighed and sank into a chair beside him as they exchanged wary glances. If they couldn't stop the intruders, they had to hope Gideon could.

Pausing to collect their fallen friends and prop them in chairs as well, the aliens returned almost nonchalantly to the console and made a few rapid-fire demands of Gideon. "I'm sorry," the computer replied pleasantly, "but you will not be able to override my basic command structure, which has been specifically designed to prevent just such an attempt at stealing the ship."

One of the aliens, a female, drew a small, slender piece of tech from her sleek black uniform's pocket and inserted it into the console.

"What the hell is that?" Mick demanded, but the aliens either didn't understand or deemed his words unworthy of their notice. It was probably a combination of the two.

"Nothing good," Amaya answered, and it proved unsurprisingly prophetic as Gideon's crystal clear tones called out,

"Hello, Wave Rider crew members. How may I assist you?"

"Fuck," Mick muttered angrily as the aliens took their places and prepared for a forbidden journey made possible by their mysterious hacking tool.

"Where are you taking us?" Amaya asked, panicking, because it was definitely time to start panicking.

The aliens continued to ignore their captives and went about their business, charting a course.

"Planet Fossinandra IV, in the year AZ-391," Gideon said blithely, "Or as we'd refer to it in Earth terms, prehistoric times."

Amaya and Mick groaned in unison before he grunted, "Sorry."

"For what?" Amaya wondered, confused. "It's not your fault time-traveling aliens have taken over the ship and are taking us back to _cave_ -alien times." She managed a tainted, half-smile at the absurd predicament.

"For the swearing," Mick explained, staring off at the wall somewhere instead of into her eyes. "I know that where you're from, that sort of thing is frowned upon."

"Hey!" Amaya said, just sharply enough to make him instinctively turn his addictive gaze back in her direction. It gave her a moment's delight to have that power over him. Like the power he had over her. Pulling her into his orbit more and more irresistibly every day.

"Yeah?" He growled the word in his usual grumpy manner that didn't fool Amaya a bit and never had. Like he didn't care when he did. Why, after all, had he bothered to apologize?

"We had fucking swearing in the 1940's." She smirked at his shocked expression. He grinned and chuckled, shaking his head.

"What?" She had to know. Sure, the world was crumbling around them, they were being dragged God knew where by strangers, but that was just another day of the week for the Legends.

"Every time I try to stop liking you so much, you say or do something else to make me like you even more," Mick admitted, warmth and affection in his voice. As their eyes met, she felt her cheeks flush and heat rush through her body, self-conscious of her immediate response to his words.

" _Wait a minute_ ," Mick objected, startled and angry, "I didn't mean to say that out loud!"

"No?" Amaya asked, perplexed.

"Hell, no," he affirmed, "I meant to say something dismissive and change the subject so that you wouldn't notice how badly I want to kiss you."

Amaya's eyes grew huge as Mick actually blushed and demanded, "Gideon! What's going on?" Now that was what _real_ panic looked like.

"I believe I can explain, Mr. Rory!" Gideon replied, causing fury to blaze up in Mick's eyes, as if the situation was the computer's fault. "The aliens who have overtaken our vessel belong to a race whose very presence causes humans to speak only the truth."

"Oh," Mick replied, and a long, pregnant pause ensued. He looked at the aliens, at Amaya, at the console that displayed their journey's plotted course.

" _Fuck_ ," he said again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Just one touch**

Mick was sure this situation was his own personal hell, and as a matter of fact, maybe he actually _was_ dead, killed by the alien intruders, and this was his reward for all the havoc he'd wreaked during his life.

If so, the devil had a sick sense of humor.

Amaya hadn't said a word to him since he'd insanely blurted out his thoughts and they had learned of the aliens' powers to make humans speak the extremely embarrassing and badly timed truth.

Once they landed on Fossinandra IV, the aliens simply went off on whatever their stupid mission was, leaving Amaya and Mick just sitting there staring at each other.

"So," She began, her eyelashes fluttering as she searched for the right words for this unique situation. Probably a kind rejection, which he did not need to hear in order to know he didn't have a shot in hell with her.

"Forget it," Mick muttered. "Let's just go find the rest of the crew."

"O _kay,_ " Amaya said, looking a little thrown by his attitude. _But why?_ He half-allowed himself to wonder.

They headed for sick bay. There, they found Sara, Jax, and Stein each strapped to a bed, the only safe place for them to endure the unplanned time jump. Sara jerked her confining straps aside, while a bandaged, weary Jax just winced and Stein sighed heavily.

"I can't _believe_ they got the drop on us like that!" Sara exclaimed angrily, blaming herself as the current commander of the vessel for making it so easy. She started to pace back and forth, steam practically pouring from her ears.

"It's not your fault, Miss Lance," Stein reassured her, "No one could have seen their arrival coming. Had I not been in sick bay already, organizing our supplies, I would have been thrown from one end of the ship to the other with that sudden time jump. Speaking of which, where are Nate and Ray?"

"Let's find out," Sara decided, launching herself forward as though she was going to burst if she didn't do something, anything to remedy the situation. Mick understood the feeling well. Her warrior instincts and tough attitude weren't all that different from his own, leading to his respect for her as a commanding officer.

Amaya and Mick trailed behind Sara and they discovered Ray in his quarters, having clung desperately to his bunk to keep from being injured. Nate hadn't been as lucky, and they found him crumpled in the corridor near his own quarters, moaning in pain.

" _Ow_ ," Nate declared emphatically, and Sara dropped to her knees to examine him.

"I think your shoulder is dislocated. Hang on a second. This is gonna hurt."

She snapped his bone back in place and Nate screeched in agony. "God, how about a little more warning next time? Man, I _really_ hope there isn't a next time."

"Um, I _did_ warn you," Sara reminded Nate briskly, adding a pat on the back for good measure. He flinched in pain. "You'll be okay." She helped him up and then they updated him on the situation.

"We have to go find the aliens and stop whatever changes they might make to the timeline," Sara noted.

"I agree," Ray added, "It's pretty obvious that they chose this time, probably even this exact day — however that plays out in their version of the calendar — for a specific reason."

"To change history," Amaya nodded. "I'd like to be part of the team that's going to investigate."

"Yeah, it should be you, me, Mick, and Ray," Sara said, "Since Nate and Jax just got the wind knocked out of them. Stein can keep an eye on them."

"Um, I don't need a babysitter, and I'm fine to go out there," Nate announced, attempting to step forward and confirm this assertion, then stumbling slightly. "Ooo-kay, maybe not."

Sara rolled her eyes. "I'll take you to sick bay. You three, get ready. Find out what kind of disguises we need to blend into this place."

"I can't believe I have to go out there with all those… _truthy_ alien bastards," Mick mumbled.

"Yeah, well, ya do," Ray said with an encouraging grin. "Let's see what passes for fashion on their planet!"

Soon after, Ray and Mick had changed into beige, loose-fitting shirts made from coarse material with brown pants, while Sara and Amaya sported dresses from the same beige cloth, tied around the waist with dark brown cord. None of them wore shoes.

"The people of this planet do not wear shoes," Gideon informed them cooly.

"We'll just have to try not to step on anything sharp," Ray said brightly, as usual trying to put a positive spin on the situation as the others grimaced at the thought of wandering around barefoot.

"Let's not forget the finishing touch," Sara said, handing each of them a bracelet made from the same cord that tied her and Amaya's dresses. In the center of each cord was a green gem. "Once you have your bracelet on, press the gem down. Gideon's designed these to project the appearance that we are green-skinned, lizard-y creatures like everyone else out there on Fossinandra IV."

They all pressed the gems accordingly, but nothing happened aside from a slight shimmer of gold light that skimmed each of them momentarily.

"What's the deal?" Mick chortled derisively. "You bozos all look the same, and I do too," he confirmed, glancing at his hands held outstretched in front of him.

"The illusion is visible to the aliens, but we look the same to ourselves and each other," Sara explained, rolling her eyes. "Now, let's go."

Fossinandra was a burst of bright oranges and greens, the ground beneath them coated in soft tangerine-colored sand that seemed to glimmer with effervescence in its oddly comforting texture. The sky was a shocking shade of emerald, with a purple-blue moon nestled in crescent shape among lazily drifting azure clouds.

"Wow," Sara admitted, taking the place in, "This place is amazing."

"Check out this sand, you guys," Ray commented, letting some of the glittering granules pass through his fingers. "No wonder these people don't need shoes. It's like walking on a carpet made of bubbles."

"Amazing?" Mick repeated, annoyed. "I was gonna go with _weird_. Now let's get this show on the road. We're not here to admire the view."

He strode off grumpily, leaving the others to get their bearings. Taking out a pair of high-tech binoculars, Mick squinted around at the environs for as far as he could see in either direction. Structures made from heavy slabs of black wood stretched up from the ground off to the east, so he guessed that's where they were heading. There wasn't a damn thing around here other than that, unless you counted these stupid looking pink flowers and trees with branches drooping under the weight of juicy-looking yellow fruit.

"Probably poison," Mick guessed, kicking one of the trees for good measure.

"What did the tree do to you?" Amaya asked, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a searching look as she approached.

"It's in my way, just like everything else around here," Mick growled, avoiding her eyes at all costs.

"And that includes me, I suppose?" Amaya said softly, stepping closer.

He let his eyes barely flit up to look at her sweet, kind expression, and frustration clouded his mind.

"Listen, I don't wanna have this conversation, okay?" He blurted, "It's not my fault my mouth got hijacked by truth-enforcing aliens and I said a bunch of lame stuff that probably ruined whatever it was we had between us. I thought maybe you were a friend, maybe. And I don't usually have those. Now it's just a mess. So I get it, you're weirded out, and you want to talk about it because you're nice. Well, I'm _not_ nice and I _don't_ want to talk about it."

"Hey Mick," Amaya stopped him as he turned to go, letting her hand slide gently from his shoulder down his muscular arm, the motion feeling like a caress. He startled slightly. "You're making a lot of assumptions here, don't you think?"

Finally, he looked at her, knowing and dreading the knowledge that his face showed with total honesty the vulnerability he felt when it came to her, the dumbass way his heart leapt whenever she smiled. Infuriating and totally out of his control.

"Stop hiding from me," She murmured, running her fingers over his cheek and eliciting a deep sigh from him that felt like the first time he'd breathed out since they'd landed.

"Guys?" Sara's voice piped up. She stood off to the side and pointed into the distance, where Mick had noticed the group of buildings. "Let's go see what's going on over there. Probably where our green friends headed when they set out." If she was at all put off by Amaya and Mick's intimate posturing, she didn't show it. Ray winked at Mick, and he felt his own face turn red. _What a prick_.

Amaya cleared her throat and stepped back slightly. "We're coming," she nodded to Sara, and Mick followed her, wondering what in the world was happening to the iron-clad defenses he'd built up around his emotions.

She had the ability to shatter those walls with a single touch.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: You must be haunting me**

Amaya squinted in the light of a dazzling yellow sun that had risen during their short walk to the buildings. What _was_ this strange world, where the colors seemed to defy anything naturally occurring, and the entire atmosphere was apparently charged with an energy that felt simultaneously haunting and exciting?

Sara paused outside the gates to the village, which were made of oddly soft looking purple and grey stones. Mick pushed the wall, but found it completely immovable despite appearing to have been thrown together with little care for structural integrity.

"This place is full of surprises," Ray noted, "It's definitely somewhere between cool and creepy."

"I think it's gorgeous. Fascinating," Amaya admitted, the words rolling off her tongue hypnotically. Coming from her most truthful inner self, with no inhibitions. _Oh, damn._

"Guys, I think we're close enough to the aliens for their powers to be working on us," she informed the other, "Just…so you know."

"Great," Mick replied brusquely, but his words reflected bitterness towards the aliens only. When their gazes locked again, oppositional magnets clicking, his expression was…attentive. Intent on her.

"I don't really have a problem saying what I'm thinking," Sara said briskly. She touched the small earpiece that was concealed beneath her long blonde hair. "Gideon?"

"Yes, Captain Lance?" The computer's pleasant tones replied.

"Activate translators, please. We've reached the first sign of alien civilization."

"Translators activated, Captain. You are ready to proceed."

Sara rolled her shoulders back. "Let's get this show on the road" was her only order as they opened the front gate, secured by a large latch and unguarded.

Inside, they found a town square with a well at its center and a busy rush of aliens, all dressed just as the Wave Rider landing party was, endlessly chatting with each other. Children chased each other as parents chided; merchants called out, selling food, drink, and farming tools. Amaya's eyes wandered all around, registering the series of black-wood houses, each of which was accompanied by a small garden that must provide the aliens' source of food.

"Agrarian, but where are they getting the water from?" Ray wondered aloud.

"You don't know about the great creek?" A small alien girl had overheard Ray and paused in her tracks.

"No, we don't," he said, leaning down with a kind smile. "Where is it?"

"It's in Culovia," the girl informed him, looking surprised that anyone could not possess this simple knowledge. "We use pipes underground to draw water from the creek to our crops."

"Irrigation," Ray concluded, impressed. "These are no cave people."

As the little girl ran back to join the other little ones, Gideon piped up in their comms. "Indeed not, Dr. Palmer. The people of Fossinandra IV were well advanced into numerous villages spread across the small planet, more closely resembling the villages of Colonial-era America than the comparatively simplistic and confused existence of humans during this same era on Earth."

"Thanks for the compliments to humanity," Ray laughed shortly. "So we are dealing with a very smart race of aliens."

"The aliens we saw wore sleek uniforms, military looking," Amaya recalled, furrowing her brow. "They looked to come from a much more contemporary time on this world."

"Let's split up," Sara decided. "Everyone, find the time travelers. Amaya and Mick, you saw them up close, so you've got the best shot. Go mingle and call us if you see them. Ray, you and me are gonna look for anything out of place. Who knows what aberrations might already have begun."

"I feel like anything _normal_ we see would automatically seem out of place here," Ray chuckled. "This place is enough to make Earth seem boring."

They went their separate ways, Amaya and Mick weaving themselves as subtly as possible into the crowd. It wasn't hard. Everyone seemed so happily fixated on their daily activities.

"What if…" Amaya's voice trailed off thoughtfully. "What if being honest all the time keeps them happy?"

"Sounds like a crock to me," Mick laughed. "Trust me, most people would definitely not want to hear my honest opinion of them. Honesty leads to a lot of hurt feelings. Not that I care about anyone's feelings. I mean, I like to _pretend_ I don't care about people's feelings, but I really kinda do. Wait a minute!" The truth had come tumbling out without his having a clue it was going to happen.

Amaya swatted his shoulder, giggling. "I already knew you cared about _feeeeelings,_ " she winked. "Don't forget, I found out that you're not a bad guy, Mick Rory. There's no going back now."

He paused as the villagers went about their business all around them. A flurry of activity with Mick and Amaya the calm center of a cheery storm. Daringly, he took her hand, and their fingers laced together easily. "When you look at me like that," Mick admitted, "I don't want to go back to being a bad guy."

"You shouldn't have come here," a fierce female voice piped up behind them as they were seized abruptly by the two aliens they'd encountered on the Wave Rider. They were decked out in period garb now and blended in seamlessly as they yanked their captives into a nearby dwelling.

"You got some nerve throwing accusations our way," Mick growled, shaking off the male alien's iron grip and reaching for his rifle.

"Damn right," Amaya agreed. "You steal our ship and take an illicit trip back in time, dragging us along, and we're supposed to do what exactly? Evaporate? Twiddle our thumbs and wait patiently for you to come back and use our ship for whatever else you feel like doing today? Why don't you just tell us what you're up to instead of assuming the worst about us and pushing us around like this?"

"No matter what you're up to, I'd love to blast you to bits, but you know…what the lady said," Mick grumbled.

The aliens exchanged thoughtful glances. "We don't actually care about you or your crew at all," The female explained. "You're necessary means to an end. Our mission is vital to the ongoing survival of our world, our people. We had no choice but to take your ship. And while we take no pleasure in hurting you or your crewmates, we won't hesitate to do so if it aids us in saving millions of Fossinandrans."

"At least we have one thing in common: we don't care about you guys either," Mick smirked. "What are you idiots trying to do, change the past to save the future? Don't you know time travel doesn't really work that way?"

"Well, almost never. I understand your urgency," Amaya admitted, slightly sympathetic, to the aliens. "But in making whatever changes you plan to in order to preserve your race in the present, you could cause aberrations that do even more damage."

"We've worked out all the probabilities, and believe us, it could not be any worse," the male alien explained grimly.

"All we need do is introduce a certain substance into the water supply of this village," the female continued, "And we will provide a vaccine which, if administered during this stage of our species' evolution, will strengthen their immune systems and make a future virus incapable of killing every man, woman, and child on our world."

"The nature of our anatomy and its development over time has been fully analyzed to help us come to this conclusion, this time, this implementation," the male added. "We cannot delay in carrying out our mission."

Amaya and Mick looked at each other. He saw the pity and understanding in her eyes and rolled his. "Okay, okay. What say we get our leader and see what she thinks we oughta do about this plan of yours?" He suggested gruffly.

"Very well," the female alien agreed stiffly. "We will set aside a short bit of time to go over the plan with your Captain, if only to show you the necessity of it and avoid any further annoyances or delays. If she disagrees, our attempt to remain relatively free from violent recourse will be at an end."

"Delightful," Mick grinned, putting his rifle away and making it all too clear that despite their explanation, he'd have no problem using it if he had to.

"I am Amaya Jiwe, and this is Mick Rory," Amaya explained, "We travel through time preventing damage to the timeline that could ruin life as all beings know it. This is our job, to help with decisions just like this. We want to help you and assure that the situation works out the best it can for everyone."

"My name is Elandrea," the female introduced herself with a curt nod, the first inkling of respect she'd extended towards Amaya. "My companion is Rishard."

"Let's go," Amaya said, and Mick followed with the aliens trailing behind.

Once Sara had been filled in on Elandrea and Rishard's mission, she sighed heavily. "Of course we'd _like_ to let you carry out this task. But how do we know the vaccine is what you say it is?"

Rishard laughed harshly. "What gives you the impression you would be _letting_ us do anything?"

Mick chuckled. "I'm starting to like this guy."

"We need no approval from you, but you are in our way," Elandrea said. "Our patience wanes."

"What if we take a sample of your vaccine aboard and have it tested?" Ray suggested. "Gideon will be able to tell us within minutes if you're on the up and up. Then we can take a vote among the crew to see if we think letting you use the vaccine is worth the risk of any aberrations caused."

"A vote?" Elandrea frowned derisively. "How quaint and entirely pointless. Take this." She thrust a vial of purple liquid at Ray, who snatched it up and examined it with great interest.

"You may have one hour to make your deliberations," Rishard announced. "Should you decide against us, we will destroy you and proceed as planned. May your decision be a wise one."

"You could _try_ to destroy us," Mick smiled darkly.

The aliens strode off after Sara agreed on their terms of returning with an answer in one hour.

"Is it just me, or are those two aliens just obnoxiously condescending?" Ray asked when they'd returned to the Wave Rider.

"It's not just you," Amaya agreed. "Their mission is legitimate, but their attitude…"

"Sucks," Sara confirmed breezily. "Gideon, do you have the results yet?"

"I do, Captain. And despite appearances suggesting the aliens' mission was legitimate, I'm afraid the results of my tests prove the reality to be quite the contrary. It is, in fact, a deadly toxin, not a vaccine."

"Dammit!" Sara fumed as Mick put in, "I knew it."

"Nobody likes a know it all," Amaya murmured.

"People like _me_ ," Ray contributed with a wink. "But anyway, we've got to get down there and stop them."

When they confronted Rishard and Elandrea, the aliens looked genuinely shocked to hear the test results.

"It is most certainly _not_ poisonous," Elandrea insisted, "Or if it is…"

"We have been sabotaged by our enemies," Rishard suggested, "by those who introduced the virus into our population."

"If that's true, you'll destroy the rest of the poison right now," Sara demanded. When the aliens went along with this, it seemed that their plan had indeed been undercut by enemies.

"What will you do now?" Amaya asked.

"We must travel back to our time and obtain another vial of the true cure," Elandrea explained.

"And how were you planning to do that?" Sara inquired archly, crossing her arms. "We've been more than reasonable despite your own lack of any basic civility. How about you start returning the favor?"

Elandrea grimaced and Rishard groaned. "Very well," Rishard relented. "May we _please_ borrow your vessel to get the cure from our own time and bring it back here to enact our plan, then return your vessel to you with no further requests on our part?"

"Wanna throw in an apology for man-handling my crew, endangering us all with that unplanned time jump, and stealing our ship?" Sara asked tartly. "Oh, and how about a 'thank you' for preventing you from poisoning that well?"

"We are sorry, and grateful," Elandrea managed. "And you should know that we are just as beholden to the truthful ways of our people as every other individual on this world. Our word is our bond, more fully than your race could possibly fathom."

"You'd be surprised what we can fathom," Amaya assured Elandrea.

Sara returned to the Wave Rider to oversee the journey, while Mick and Amaya stayed behind with Ray to keep an eye on the village in case Elandrea and Rishard's enemies from the future arrived to cause trouble. They started by pulling up files from Gideon's database to cross-reference and analyze Elandrea and Rishard's claims. Or at least, Amaya and Ray pored over the files, tucked away in the dwelling that had been occupied by their alien frenemies, while Mick kicked back in a corner staring at his lighter and sampling the planet's idea of alcoholic beverage.

Ray rubbed his eyes, exhausted. "Everything checks out," he confirmed. "And that is _such_ good news, guys. Basically, this just turned into a short vacation on this kooky planet. All we have to do is relax until the others get back. Let's just keep an eye out for any evil future Fossinandran visitors twirling mustaches."

"I'm pretending that relaxation was always my plan, but actually, I'm totally interested in hearing about the aliens," Mick piped up, his self-satisfied tone revealing that he didn't hear his own involuntary honesty until a beat later. "Dammit!"

Amaya's only response was a warm smile and a wink.

Ray stood up and stretched. "I'm going to find something to eat and then crash for the night," he told them. "Why don't you two just…have some fun?" He shrugged lightly with a pleasant, sleepy smile before heading out.

"When is he gonna learn to mind his own business?" Mick groused, but Amaya grinned widely.

"Never. What do you say, Mick? Want to have some fun with me? Let's go." Amaya's honesty seemed to flow so easily that it was a relief not to be held back by her usual restraint in dealing with her feelings for Mick, always tangled in uncertainty of his intentions. Both of them letting their longing be pushed aside by self-punishing angst. It was time to finally be free.

Mick paused for just a moment, letting the chance sink in. It was as if he hadn't actually had fun or let go in so long that he'd forgotten how it felt. Then he stood up and smiled simply, brushing a strand of Amaya's hair behind her ear, his touch making her nerve endings tingle and cry out for more.

"Okay, let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Can't wait anymore**

There was no currency but trade in the village, and Mick and Amaya were able to use their skills to earn their keep that night. Mick repaired a fence and Amaya did some light farm work, for which they were rewarded with more comfortable accommodations in the farmer's home, the materials for them each to have a hot bath, fresh clothing, plus food and drink.

"Pretty good deal," Mick admitted as they headed to their respective rooms to clean up and change. "Can't remember a time I got so much for doing so little, and I'm not exactly accustomed to doing much for anyone."

"Maybe not in the past," Amaya replied with a smile, "but you've come a long way, Mr. Rory." The way she said the last words in a playful British accent reminiscent of Gideon made him grin. "See you in a few minutes," she said beguilingly, sliding a curtain across the door of her room.

After enjoying a soak in a deep tub filled with blissfully fragrant water, Amaya slipped into a dress in the same beige color that seemed to be a uniform of sorts around here. The material, however, was much smoother and it felt like a huge relief to be touched by gentler fabric after a day in the previous, itchy outfit. The cut of the dress was a halter that skimmed Amaya's frame with a perfect combination of comfortable looseness and flattering cinching in the right places. There was a slit up one leg that was attractive, yet too modest to make her blush.

When they reemerged, Amaya actually did blush as her eyes met Mick's and she saw him do a double-take at her new attire. Meanwhile, she appreciated the way the deep v-neck of his shirt revealed some of his tan, fit chest, with the short sleeves leaving his strong arms, the ones she was currently fantasizing about feeling around her, on display.

Mick cleared his throat. "You look beautiful," he told her. Then he looked down at his hands, momentarily helpless, like they might hold the answer to controlling his words again. "I only meant to say _nice_."

Amaya smiled again, but there was a touch of the potential for melancholy in the expression now that gave him pause. Did it hurt him that much to just be open with her?

"I'm sorry, I just can't get used to what this place, these people, are _doing_ to me," Mick admitted. They sat down next to one another on the floor, their legs stretched out in front of them. "Feelings are not my _thing,_ and ever since this started, I just keep _talking_ about them." He shuddered.

"Listen, if you're this disturbed by the whole honesty aspect, maybe we should wait until we get back on the Wave Rider, away from the Fossinandrans, before we talk about us at all. Or… _do_ anything about us." She blushed and lowered her eyes. Damn honesty making her include that last part, admitting subtly but clearly that getting closer physically was definitely on her mind. "I don't want you to feel like you're only here with me or saying certain things because you got…"

"Truth-bombed?" Mick considered her offer. "Maybe waiting until the nonstop _truthiness_ is over would be easier," he admitted, "But then again…" He let his hand fall gently on top of hers and as their fingers nestled together, their eyes locked, the sensation was unquestionably sensual. A warmth swept through Amaya's whole body, making her press her thighs together as if to ward off being _too_ truthful about how his touch made her feel. "I'm not sure that's what I want either."

Amaya cocked her head slightly to one side. "So what _do_ you want, Mick? You're giving me whiplash."

"Sorry, again," He murmured huskily. "I've literally never said that word this many times in a year, never mind in one day." He shook his head in disbelief. "Maybe all this isn't the sort of thing I usually let myself open up to, and with good reason. Life hasn't been kind, and neither have I. But when it comes to you…with or without saying how I feel, I'd still be feeling it. I don't want to go back now."

Amaya didn't want him to go back either, to return to his hard shell of ferocious indifference, his every word and movement warning others to keep their distance. She knew how brave it was for someone so completely terrified of being intimate enough to experience vulnerability to surrender voluntarily to this, this _need_ they both felt between them.

"So anyway, you asked me what I want. Out of everything, I thought that was already pretty damn clear." Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers with a tentativeness that aroused her to no end. They smiled at each other at the satiation of a previously smothered desire and didn't hesitate to close the distance between them again. As the kiss deepened and their tongues met, his fingers tangled in her hair and she pressed her hands against his back to bring him closer, never close enough it seemed.

One of the Fossinandrans who had come in with buckets of well water to cook the evening's dinner cleared her throat and flushed at the sight of Mick and Amaya's embrace, her green skin flaring pink across her cheeks in a way that was downright cute.

"Let's get outta here," Mick said, taking Amaya's hand to help her up. They slipped out into the town square, where musicians were playing lively, folky dance music on bizarre-looking contraptions Amaya would never previously have been able to identify as instruments. She laughed instinctively at the thought of how Mick would likely react to her next move, pulling him into the group of dancing aliens and starting to join in, urging his participation.

"I don't dance!" Mick yelled, but he was smiling, and that meant everything to her. Making him smile and watching his grumpy act crumble had become something of a personal crusade for her.

"You do now!" She exclaimed happily, twirling and spinning and otherwise thoroughly enjoying the sight of him awkwardly trying to move to this admittedly crazy rhythm.

They saw several couples drifting away from the crowds as the moon rose enormous and full in the rapidly descending twilight. "Where are they all going?" Amaya yelled and Mick shrugged.

"Let's go find out," he suggested, "it means I get to stop dancing!"

She giggled and followed him as they trailed the others to a secluded garden spread all around with large, vibrant flowers in every shade of the rainbow. The other couples each descended to the orange sand and looked up at the sky, clearly star-gazing.

"It's so gorgeous here," Amaya observed, a little breathless from her giddy dancing. "Everything is so pure and real."

"No wonder you like it here so much," Mick replied. "It's a whole planet made up of everything you are."

Amaya's heart pounded. She clasped his hand tighter as they made their way through an enclosure of soft, bright green bushes to a stretch of garden that was entirely secluded. It felt like this place had been waiting for them.

"Don't you get exhausted, always trying to convince everyone that you don't care about anything?" Amaya asked, sinking into the silky tangerine sand and sighing as she laid down and stretched out, staring up at the beautiful stars.

Mick sat down beside her. "It's too exhausting to deal with the consequences of caring. The less I share, the safer I stay."

"Except now," Amaya noted, looking up at him with a searching glint in her eye.

"Except now," he repeated a little hoarsely, lying down beside her and leaning in for another lingering kiss.

"My thoughts are starting to wander away from what I'd call 'pure,' she sighed as he kissed her neck.

Mick stared down at her intensely, his finger tracing a trail from her collar bone, halting between her breasts as her breath caught. "Good," he murmured, lowering his mouth to pursue the path he'd mapped out. Through the thin material of her dress, his hot caress was driving her to distraction. Who knew a guy who passed himself off as the ultimate tough guy could be so sensual, expertly drawing out her temptation? For some odd reason, she'd just always had a feeling he had that in him when she looked at Mick, and it felt now like the ultimate wish fulfillment.

His fingers brushed lightly against her nipples, and she arched her back, a practically feline noise springing involuntarily from her lips right before he kissed them again, moving his hand down to stroke her leg, reaching up to her thigh right where the slit of her dress left off. "Don't stop," she pleaded, but just then a sound so completely out of place on Fossinandra IV that it brought them both to a screeching halt interrupted everything.

The sky seemed to tear in half above them to the west as an enormous vessel appeared, opening fire on the village, casting neon torpedoes downward that let out terrifyingly resounding booms as they launched.

"It has to be the enemy Fossinandrans from the future," Amaya guessed in a panic, scrambling to her feet as they stood there in momentary, horrified shock. "The ones who started the virus in the first place as a crazy means of population control."

"I've never seen these fuckers before, but I hate them," Mick growled.

"Let's go get Ray and stop this insanity," Amaya said, and they ran with all their might back to the village square. The largest building there, which served as a community center, was a howling blaze of flames, and the villagers stood all around, terrified and confused.

Ray was trying to explain the situation to their leaders, but right in the middle of his gentle preamble on time travel, several Fossinandrans dressed in dark blue uniforms arrived on the scene, wielding silver blasters that they aimed right at the village elders.

"Listen creeps, I'll give you one chance to get lost before I end you all," Mick offered, stepping in front of the blasters to show how little he feared them. Amaya did a double-take. No situation could be more indicative of Mick's frank and unrelenting bravery.

"You must be the humans," one of the new aliens hissed, serpentine. "We knew it had to be you, the rogue faction known as the Legends, who allowed our foes to travel to this time. No Time Master would ever be so exceptionally stupid and careless to the need to preserve history's natural flow."

" _History's natural flow_?" Amaya yelled, infuriated beyond any words she could put to the situation. "I'm fairly certain that building wasn't destroyed the first time history played out!"

"Our extreme measures are only necessary because of your own absurd gambit," the alien captain retorted, his tone dripping with mockery and derision.

"Gambit, huh?" Ray asked, looking strangely confident. Amaya glanced at his hand and saw he was wielding a gun loaded with a syringe of green liquid. The toxin that was deadly to Fossinandrans.

"I took the liberty of loading this baby up with some pretty potent stuff that will stop you in your tracks, permanently," Ray explained, striding forward and leveling the needle gun right at the captain's head.

"You may have us outgunned, but how much does your leader mean to you?" Mick asked gruffly.

"Enough of this madness," the apparent first officer replied, gesturing up at the building that smoldered with ghastly smoke behind them. "We've shown that we won't hesitate to destroy this village to punish you all. We aren't to be thwarted. And unless you leave, refusing any more aid to the renegade scientists from our time, we will do it in an instant. If you'd like to kill my captain, go ahead. I've always yearned for a promotion." The Fossinandran smirked, his black eyes sparkling with gleeful menace.

"Actually," a new voice piped up, "I think it's time you put in for early retirement."

Ray, Mick, and Amaya spun around to see Sara, the rest of the Wave Rider crew, Elandrea, and Rishard standing there, armed and very dangerous.

Amaya breathed a sigh of relief as Mick yanked the guns from their enemies. Elandrea and Rishard clapped shackles onto their wrists.

"You'll come back to our time and stand trial for what you've done," Elandrea informed them cooly. "You may have done your work from inside government walls, but your virus was never sanctioned for release into the populace."

"It's not up to you to decide who deserves to live or die, based on your own foul prejudices. The answer to our overpopulation lies in expanding our civilization across the galaxy and civilizing other, uninhabited, but habitable worlds, though perhaps that's not a project for ones so impatient and unscrupulous as you," Rishard added, then turned to face the villagers.

"You will be safe," he called out, "And thanks to this cure that my companion and I have brought, all Fossinandrans will be afforded the chance to live peaceably."

The villagers cheered and embraced one another. Mick and Amaya hugged as well, with Ray clapping them on the backs and adding a "Yes!" to the joyful tumult.

"So," Sara winked at Mick as they headed back to the Wave Rider, "You finally did something about that?" She nodded at Amaya, who was just behind them, and Mick failed to smother a smile.

"Shut up," he replied, grinning from ear to ear.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: …just in love**

A few hours after returning to the Wave Rider, Amaya and Mick almost ran smack into each other in the hall between their rooms.

"I was just coming to" Amaya began as Mick said "I was on my way" at the same time, their words coming out nervous and jumbled.

"To see you," Amaya finished, laughing.

"Same," Mick agreed, smiling in a way she'd almost describe as _shy._ It made her heart leap.

"Come on then," she invited, leading him into her quarters as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"So glad we're in _your_ room. I can't let you anywhere near mine until I clean it up," Mick admitted ruefully.

"You? Cleaning a room?" Amaya giggled. "I can't picture it."

"You're right," he admitted. "I can't either. But for you, I would."

"That's very sweet and honest of you," Amaya observed, "And without a Fossinandran in sight."

" _Me_? Sweet?" Mick laughed sharply. "Never. I'm just in love." He stepped closer and murmured in her ear, "And I haven't been able to stop thinking about last night."

Her eyes teared up at the same time her skin tingled, touched by his words of affection while his seductive bearing enticed her. She hadn't been able to keep her thoughts of what they had started the night before from flooding every moment with thrumming suspense, either.

"Then what are you waiting for?" She replied softly, taking both his hands in her own. She slipped a thumb into each one of his black gloves and caressed his palms, eliciting a deep sigh from him, before she slid them off and placed his hands on her hips invitingly.

He leaned in and claimed her mouth in a kiss that quickly deepened as her hands went to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it shamelessly, shocked at her own abandon. She threw the shirt aside and he lifted her astride him, her thighs circling him. His desire for her was so apparent that she moaned, falling on top of him as they landed on the bed, but there was a grace in their movements that reflected the perfection of a chemistry she never again wanted to deny.

She sat up and shifted slightly, the feeling of her warm center against his answering hardness through their clothes exquisitely torturous. Amaya's hands practically shot to his belt, his jeans' enclosure, as he gazed at her, perhaps as surprised by her boldness as she was.

He pulled her back down for another molten kiss before observing, "This seems a little unfair." He nodded down at his own near nakedness, and she smirked playfully, peppering his chest, then his stomach with kisses until she got to the waistband of his underwear. She stopped, fluttering her eyelashes at him, then took it that one step too far by winking.

"Okay, that's it," Mick replied to her saucy teasing. He took her in his arms and kissed her fiercely while removing her bra so quickly and deftly her head spun.

"What are you going to do about it?" Amaya whispered, but the words sounded nothing like the cheeky retort she'd intended. Her feelings and demeanor had slipped right from seductive flirtation to heart-pounding passion as his eyes raked over her body, his mouth falling slightly open, so amazed by her.

She was reminded how sexy Mick's lips were and couldn't help kissing them once more, biting down delicately on his bottom lip, running her hands over his torso and downward, letting her fingers first drift against his member, then firmly stroke it as he groaned softly, hoarsely.

Mick's lips explored her neck and upper chest just long enough to make her practically explode with desire for them to go to more intimate places. She touched the back of his head lightly, encouraging him as he found her breasts with his perfect, rough-textured fingers and hot, relentless tongue. Amaya let herself go completely to the erotic sensation that emanated through her body, yet was unprepared for the intensity of her pleasure when he eased off her snug black pants and then her admittedly soaked panties, not hesitating to lower his mouth to explore her further.

Her back arched and she grabbed the headboard's rails above her, biting her lip in delicious frustration as his teasing attentions exacted revenge for her earlier wink.

"What do you want?" Mick asked Amaya, looking up at her with undoubtable adoration.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and urged his body upward so that only the thin material of his undergarments separated them. "You know what I want," Amaya answered, her voice tight with breathless need.

Within the next heartbeat, he was inside her, exceeding every blush-inducing fantasy she'd ever entertained of him as instinct spurred them on to an irresistible rhythm, hot and pleading, and somehow tenderly urgent. Amaya clutched Mick's shoulders, then dragged her nails down his back as lightly as she could, trying not to hurt him, yet needing some release to set off the sharp waves of pleasure that rocked her mercilessly.

They didn't speak for a while once they just barely separated, still tangled together as their breaths came heavy at first, then evened out.

He touched her face wonderingly, asking in his gruffly luscious voice, "How could a loser like me ever get this lucky?"

Amaya kicked him lightly under the sheets, then winced. Her legs didn't have the strength back yet that they needed for any such action. That made her blush all over again. "You're the farthest thing from a loser that could ever exist, Mick Rory," she answered. "So stop beating yourself up all the time, would you? Sometimes the redeemed criminal mastermind turned space-and-time-hopping hero who likes to pretend he's above caring for anyone actually _does_ get the girl." She grinned. "Well, that was certainly a mouthful. You make me work, you know that?"

"For the last few weeks," Mick admitted, taking one of her hands and kissing each finger, then knuckle as he spoke before doing the same to her palm, "I was so sure that you and Nate…" his words drifted off as a cloud of jealousy, bitterness, and sadness she hadn't even registered before came back into his eyes.

"Mick, no!" Amaya said, almost jolting at the way his expression shook her. If only she'd known sooner that her own feelings weren't unrequited. "Nate and I are just friends. It kind of seemed at first like it would make sense to for us to be more to each other. He's a wonderful guy."

"Take it easy," Mick quipped drily. "He's alright, I guess. Whatever."

"He's a wonderful guy," Amaya repeated almost sternly, tilting his face towards her affectionate gaze, "but he's not _you_. I'm not…" Her voice ebbed away as shyness threatened to eat her words. They weren't on Fossinandra anymore, and pure, naked truth was the ultimate exposure.

"Not what?" He asked simply, pulling the sheets and blanket up higher to wrap her as snugly in them as his arms enfolded her, easing away the slight shiver she'd felt just then.

"I'm not in love with him," Amaya replied, letting her halting, trembling fingers rest over Mick's heart, feeling its fastness, which mirrored the intimate seriousness in his warm brown eyes.

"I love you," she whispered as he drew her yet closer, their lips meeting with a heat that ensured this was going to be a long and very happy night.


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue: New Day**

Mick took Amaya's hand casually as they strolled onto the bridge the next morning.

"What are you doing?" She blushed, looking around. The others were milling about, chatting and planning the next mission, and hadn't noticed their entrance yet.

Mick smirked and said in a gruffly amused voice, "What are you so afraid of all of a sudden?"

"Well, you're not concerned that the others won't approve of our relationship? Of inter-crew fraternization?" Still, Amaya made no attempt to withdraw her hand, which was telling.

Mick took Amaya's other hand and pulled her closer, murmuring, "I don't think this that kind of crew. We're a bunch of outcasts and misfits and rule-breakers. We do what we want."

"Within reason," Amaya agreed cautiously. "But what about that other part?"

"Hmm?" Mick asked, his eyes sparkling with affection, his guard so completely down that it still gave her the good kind of chills.

The very good kind.

"Ahem," Amaya transitioned, made awkward by his distracting sexiness. "What about your little act where you strut around here pretending you have no emotions?"

"Oh, that," he chuckled. "I think I'm enough of a badass to keep everyone a little afraid of me without keeping that charade up."

"I'm not afraid of you," Amaya teased, giving in to the grin that had been trying to spread across her face all along.

"Good," Mick replied with a smile that made her heart skip a beat. He swung her hand slightly in his as they descended to where the others were.

"Oh, this is happening," Sara rolled her eyes as she noticed Mick and Amaya. " _And_ they're being obvious about it." Her smile made it clear that their Captain felt no real disapproval, only the slight mocking a sibling might show.

"Hey, whatever makes you happy, guys," Jax said quickly, so completely surprised by the new coupling that Amaya laughed.

"Miss Jiwe, I should have known that someone as empathetic as yourself would be the one to break through Mr. Rory's somewhat…prickly exterior and find the good man underneath," Stein put in warmly.

"Good man?" Mick grimaced. "Let's not take it too far, Professor."

"You doth protest too much," Amaya pointed out in amusement. Across the room, she met Nate's eyes and saw his surprised disappointment at the recent development they'd just exposed. Her high spirits fell slightly, guilt tinging the cloud of happiness she'd been floating on a moment before.

"It's weird," Jax blurted.

"Yeah," Sara confirmed drily from her chair, "But weird is where we live."

"It's not weird," Martin attempted, "Just…"

"Just weird," Jax repeated. "But what else is new around here?" He winked at Mick and Amaya before heading out to begin his engineer's duties for the day.

"Hey, you guys found love in a hopeless place," Nate said on his way out of the room. He paused, several history books in his hands, avoiding eye contact with either Amaya or Mick. "Good for you."

"Nathaniel," Amaya began haltingly, but he waved her off, shaking his head.

"Amaya, you don't owe me a damn thing," Nate assured her, his slightly melancholy expression shifting into a small smile of understanding and acceptance. "And that includes an explanation."

"Friends?" Amaya ventured, and he nodded.

"Always."

After Nate had departed, Ray came onto the bridge whistling and stopped in his tracks when he made note of Mick and Amaya's joined hands.

As Ray opened his mouth to speak with great enthusiasm, Mick cut him off at the pass.

"Haircut, if you say 'I told you so,' I'll clobber you," Mick glowered.

"You know, when we were on Fossinandra, he admitted to me that he likes you," Amaya told Ray, who grinned.

"No surprise there," Ray said, clapping Mick on the back. Mick's answering grunt encouraged him to get to work elsewhere.

"Okay, lovebirds," Sara called wryly, "We've got work to do. Get your head in the game."

Mick and Amaya soon strapped themselves in for a time jump as a new adventure began. Amaya felt a jolt of adrenaline and intrigue that only intensified the pleasant sense of butterflies fluttering in her stomach when she looked at Mick, a feeling that showed no sign of ever going away. It was amazing how one could feel so excited and so content at the same time. And this time, there was the liberating sense of all lies between them being cast aside. The age of repression had ended thanks to a timely dose of irrefutable truth, and in the aftermath, there was only happiness and hope.


End file.
